Long, Long, Not All That Long Ago
by TheDawnCatcher
Summary: Years, thousands of years pass, and yet he still remembers it all. He remembers the war, the glory, and the infuriating barbarian who'd been there through it all. Warning: death, rape, insanity, and the first part spins off from episode 32. RomexGermania
1. He Really Does Look Like Him

**Long, Long, Not Really All That Long, Ago**

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**I've been planning and researching this for quite a while, and I was at a loss as to how to write the beginning until I remembered and re-watched episode 32 of the Axis Powers half. So, the first chapter will be a spin-off of that episode from Rome's point of view, with a few major adjustments, then flashbacking into my story.

Now then, enjoy the prologue / first chapter of Not Really All That Long Ago.

**1943 -He Really **_**Does**_** Look Like Him- 387 B.C.  
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Long, long ago, there was a Mediterranean warrior who obtained immense wealth, fame, conquered vast lands, and stood with Egypt, India, and China as the pantheon of civilization. Yet it has been said that the man who obtained it all disappeared one day. This man's name was the Roman Empire, but very few these days know him as he really was.

As Marcus Vargas.

* * *

"Okay, so that means that it should be somewhere around… here!" Marcus looked up, grinning at one of the more prominent houses in the German neighborhood. Man, it had taken him forever to find this place! He'd first gone to his old house, expecting to find his little boys, but he'd only found little Lovi and his lover. And Antoni's a pretty cute lover, at that, though Romano denied it from sun-up to sun-down! Didn't he know that the blush just gave it away? Anyways, after a long time with little Lovi he finally managed to get that little Feli was over 'at that potato-bastard's place.' Antoni clarified that it was where a 'certain someone' used to live. They'd shared a look. Lovino started demanding to know 'what the hell' that meant. Marcus took his leave so Antoni could properly distract him and went on his way.

So, after visiting a confused Lovi, a pleasant Antoni, and managing to out-run an angry Swiss with a gun, Marcus opened the door to Germany's house (Italy had picked the lock earlier) and waltzed right on in. So, it was around ten at night… That meant the best place to find little Feli was in the bedroom, wherever that was!

He managed to find it, after stumbling into a few things, getting lost in the kitchen, and saving a vase. Marcus opened the door carefully, peeking at the bed to make sure he hadn't gotten into that prissy-looking brunette's room again, and there he was! Oh, and right next to him was… Was… Marcus shook his head and rubbed his eyes. Nah, the hair was much, much too short to be him. Although he sure did look like… Oh! Well, if that was the case, he was surprised that little Feli's lover was a top! Then again, he'd been surprised to find that both of his boys bottomed, but maybe that was his fault too, in the end.

The blond boy who looked so much like _him_ didn't seem to be sleeping well. He was shaking, muttering in his sleep about cuckoo-clocks, whatever those things were. Marcus walked over to the bed and stared down at them, wondering if he should wake them up when little blondie opened his eyes and looked up at him. "Eh…? So this is little Feli's 'ally'?" My, my, what a shocked expression! "I'm a bit annoyed, for some reason." Maybe he should mess with him a little…

"Who the hell are you?" The little German shot up with a rage. Whoo~ _That _certainly wasn't like_ him_, though Marcus wasn't sure if that relieved or peeved him.

"Ve, you must be really ignorant if you don't know who I am." Lovi had said as much. Besides, it looked like he would be fun to tease. Marcus smirked and struck some of his more famous poses. "As you can see from my sculpture-like beauty," change pose, "and my steel-like strength, I'm none other than the great _Roman Empire_!" Marcus turned back to face him and winked, "The supreme ruler of the Mediterranean!" And he still liked to think of himself like that.

Uwa~h, another gun! Little blondie had pulled it out from under his pillow and was now shoving it in his face. "Get out, you suspicious _schweine_!" Ha! _He_ used to call Marcus a swine too! "You break into my house while I'm asleep, and then you claim to be the Roman Empire, a man I have deep respect for? Unforgivable!"

"No, seriously, I really am-"

"_Halt die Klappe!_" Little blondie stood, holding the gun at chest-level. "From now on, speak only when you're answering my questions. Who the hell are you?" Hm… Really loud, wasn't he? Not like _him_ at all, but the resemblance was undeniable. Marcus didn't exactly know what would happen if the 'potato bastard' actually shot him, since he was dead already, but… What was a potato, anyways?

Marcus found his gaze wander around the room and shouted, "Whoa, food!" when they landed on a table with a plate of weirdly shaped brown-looking things and a jug of water. Were these potatoes? He tried one, just to see if they really were as bad as Lovi said before finally answering, "I'm the great Roman Empire, like I said."

"I'll put a bullet to your head if you say that again."

"Oh, don't get so worked up~!" Marcus slung an arm lazily over the young German's shoulder. "You've heard my lovely voice before, remember?" He'd been such a good boy that Mr. Big-Guns-Upstairs let him mess with the little nations earlier.

"That was _you?_" he asked, shocked, though no less suspicious. Marcus answered with a grin. "Then what in God's name are you doing here?"

"Oh," He blinked, several thing suddenly clicking in his head. "I almost forgot!" He strode back over to the bed and sat down, pulling the covers back to reveal little Feli who had remained asleep through all this commotion. "I came to see my precious grandson, of course!"

Marcus head a sharp intake of breath behind him before blondie started shouting again. "Why is he in my bed?" Oh? So they weren't lovers? Well, _yet_, at least. It would make sense if he and Feli… Well, was it destiny or irony? Oh well. He was dead. What should it matter to him now? Marcus ignored little blondie's mutterings of being stuck in a dream in favor of fawning over his youngest grandson.

The young German sat on his edge of the bed, holding his head in his hands like _he_ used to do whenever he got a headache, or whenever Marcus had done something incredibly stupid. "You're a really lonely guy, aren't you?" Marcus couldn't resist teasing him some more. "You can't get a girl in your bed? Not that I mind, my little Feli's a grea-"

"What do you mean?"

He answered, nonplussed, "When I was your age, I was _surrounded _by beautiful women in bed." Though they weren't his favorite play-mates. "You've got some experience too, _don't you~?" _Purring into the last part.

The German glared daggers at him. "**_No_,** you perverted geezer!"

"Oh, so you're into boys and older women? That was popular in Naples once too." He snickered to himself at little blondie's expression of mixed despair and disgust. "Older women weren't really my thing, but some of those men were just-"

"I'm not interested in anything like that…" It looked like he was giving up trying to reason this out. _He_ used to take on that tone like that.

Marcus crossed his arms, smirking at the boy nation. "But you do it when you're bored, right?" He couldn't imagine going through century after century, decade after decade, hour after hour, without just having a little bit of it. "Paradise harem?"

"**_I do not!_**" The German raged.

"Ve~?" Marcus was shocked. "So you don't even have sex on the road? You've at least _kissed_ a _girl_ before, right?" He insisted when the boy just continued to glare at him. "Maybe a little bit of-!"

"I haven't done any of the above!" The boy snapped.

Marcus fell to his knees and held his hands reverently, just for fun. "So you're a saint…"

"And you're a freak." The young German kicked him back onto his hind-quarters, completely weird-ed out by the whole experience and turn of conversation. "There is no way that I'd believe a _schweine_ like you could be the great Roman Empire-

"All right then, I'll give you some special tutoring!" Marcus offered, jumping on the chance to educate someone ignorant enough **not** to know the great Roman Empire when he sees him. The little blonde didn't look nearly half as thrilled. "You at least know where I was, right? Rome, Italy was my heart." He chuckled, his mind briefly threatening to fly back to days of old. "I used to be small back then too." The German didn't look amused. "And so, after Mama Greece helped me get rid of Etruria I met-" _Him_ "-I _beat up_ Carthage, drank, and… I, uh…" Rome pushed those thoughts away, rubbing the back of his head, "Ah… Whatever. Every day I'd eat, fight, have sex, and sleep."

There was a sigh, and a very familiar monotonous voice recited, "753 B.C., Romulus and Remus, who were raised by wolves, founded the country." Eh? "509 B.C., you banished the King of Etruria and became a republic. Even after that you won land with epoch-making law and military strength, and in 272 B.C., Italy was unified." Oh yeah… And he'd still owed poor Mama Greece that favor, too. "Then you expanded your sphere of influence across the Mediterranean and defeated Carthage." With no thanks to _him!_

Marcus found himself beaming, grabbing the young German's shirt enthusiastically. "You're a fan of mine? That's what you are?" Well, duh, one of the first things he said was that he greatly admired the Roman Empire.

The boy looked taken by surprise, eyes widening and looking past him- another trait _they _shared. "W-Well… It's true that I respect you, but-"

"That's great!" He exclaimed, not allowing the boy to continue as he could never trust a German to be honest with himself. "Respect me all you want," He said, plopping himself down next to him with his arm draped over his shoulder, knowingly invading his personal space. "I'm deeply moved!"

"L-Let go!" He exclaimed, trying unsuccessfully to extricate himself from the Roman's grip.

Marcus would have like to play a little longer, maybe even wake up little Feli and get him to convince the other to 'play' a little, but something rang inside of him. Rome's form shivered and he jumped off of the blond boy before he could notice it. "Well, it's been fun, but I'm off!"

He'd almost dashed out the door before the boy had called out, "Wait!" behind him with such a desperate tone. He froze, slowly turning around to look at him. The young nation had his fists clenched and was glaring at the ground, obviously trying to find the words to say, "H-Hey, if… If you really are the Roman Empire…There's something- Something I want to ask you." Eh? The boy's lips formed a hard-pressed line before he continued, hesitating. "You had so much power, and yet… Why did you disappear? And where did you go? Where are you supposed to be now?"

"Those are some difficult questions." _And_ _I'm not the one you should be asking_, he thought with a wry smile. "I was an idiot. I didn't realize I was fading before I had wasted away." He hadn't realized until a 'certain someone' brought it to his 'attention.' "I thought that power and wealth were things that would stay forever. I didn't realize what was truly important… And when I did realize I was aged, in my past glory… And…"

And he still remembered that last, painful night. _He'd_ been there too. He had always been there, for almost as long as he could remember. He remembered that day they'd first met, and, oh! How they **hated **each other! Absolutely loathed one another, and they'd fought for centuries after, but the last time Rome had lost before his decline was one sunny day some twenty-three thousand years ago when _his_ forces sacked Roma's heart-city.

He'd still been a young boy of a nation, but he remembered the barbarians riding in on their horses, wielding crude axes and spears and the like. He remembered the screams of the citizens, and his soldiers frantically fighting the slaughter. He remembered a shout from a young voice in some sort of gibberish and quickly raising his shield to block the arrow heading straight for his face. And there he was. He'd leapt off of a building, bright shoulder-length hair blinding in the sun and flames. He'd landed in a roll and lost no time in getting to his feet, notching his bow with another arrow aimed between Rome's eyes. Eyes locked, and he knew. There was yet another nation out for his head.

A young barbarian nation with serious, pale-blue eyes.


	2. Rome Really Did Admire Her

**296 B.C.**** -I Really **_**Did**_** Admire Her-**** 280 B.C.**

I'm just going to type this in modern English, because I, frankly, don't know how they spoke way back then, and it makes it easier for you, my favored viewers, to read. No need to thank me, your praise is enough. Also, the German and Greek will be modern for exactly the same reasons.

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**…"And then he just glares at me and runs off! I mean, what the hell? You know what I mean, Mama Greece?"

"Mm-hm, of course, dear." Mama Greece said off-handedly, focusing on the red strip she was embroidering onto the white cloth.

"No you don't! You're not even listening to me~!" Young Rome whined, kicking his legs in frustration as if he were still a child. Of course, he'd always be a child in Mama Greece's eyes. A child just like any of her other city-states, even if he wasn't really hers.

"Of course I have been." The beautiful, long and curly haired woman continued sowing. "Germania has been hassling your troops near the northern edge of your territory for the better part of a century, but whenever you go out to meet him he just goes back to hiding in the trees. Which rather puts you off." Rome huffed and she smiled. Children really were so predictable, and yet so hard to manage at the same time. The only real reasons she hadn't tried to take him was because the Great Alexander of Macedonia had been busy chasing Persia out of Egypt, all the way to a woman who called herself India. But that was over now. With the death of Alex and Cassander, Macedonia's house was, thankfully, in chaos and Greece was getting her strength back together.

Rome shifted in his seat, uncomfortable with the long silence and the draft in the corridor. "Are ya _done_ yet, Mama Greece?" He wanted to put his toga back on!

"You're obsessed with that Germania, boy. Why is that?" Ugh, she was avoiding the subject again. Roma _really_ hated it when she did that. But it was Mama Greece. Who was he to argue?

Rome shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest to think. "I don't know," He didn't deny the obsession, "It's just that he's so… Quiet… and serious, and he actually made _**me **_pay tribute that time, and he_** really **_pisses me off! And his eyes are blue!" Greece glanced over at him for that. What an odd thing to say… Rome noticed he'd caught her attention and kept on. "They are! I've told ya this before, right? I mean, seriously, yellow hair and blue eyes? Nobody looks like that! Well, 'cept the Gods, that is."

"Oh, so you mean to liken this barbarian to a God?" Greece inquired, gesturing to a statue of the great goddess Athena, Minerva to Rome, at the end of the hall.

"No, not at all!" Rome protested, not missing the dangerous note in her tone. "He's just… outlandish, is all."

Mama Greece nodded, satisfied that he hadn't meant any sacrilege. Terrible things happened to those that dishonored the Gods, even to nations. She remembered a time when she'd insulted the great goddess Aphrodite… That entire Trojan business had just been a fiasco, not to mention poor Odysseus's return trip! There was another long silence, filled with Rome's sighing and fidgeting, before she finally decided to relieve his suffering. "How is your hunt for Etruria going?"

The tanned boy grinned, finally finding something happy to say. "I think we got 'im this time! We raised Tarquina to the ground a few years back, and I'd nearly gutted him too~…" He'd been chasing Etruria ever since he'd kicked out his ruler two centuries ago. The Latin hated the other for forcing him to be a slave in his own house, never mind the cultural and technological benefits he received for a century's worth of rule. Rome had sworn to never be humiliated like that again. "He's holed up in the northern mountains," Rome scowled, "With Samnium some _Gauls_."

"Ah, so I take it that Germania will be on the scene?" Rome nodded and Greece smiled at him. "Then why so glum? Rejoice, for you might find your chance in the melee to come." Rome stared at her for a moment, wondering why he hadn't thought of it like that, as Mama Greece smoothed out the fabric. "Come, dear Rome, and see what you think."

Rome stood, still thinking about Etruscan and Germania, and walked over to where Greece knelt. He lifted his arms up so that the graceful woman could wrap the cloth around his waist and over his shoulders, wondering if have his three strongest enemies in one place could be considered a good idea.

Mama Greece straightened his toga in all the right places, not doubting that he'd find a way to muss them again, and looked up at his young pensive face. Rome didn't think much. He was the kind to blow off anyone's opinion and jump into the fray, giving the fight all he got, grinning like a mad-man the entire way. It was disturbing to see him so distressed. Mama Greece graced the back of her hand down the side of his face and Rome looked up, blinking. "You should visit my house some time."

"Why would I need to?" He asked, "You've got a bunch of colonies just south of me. I can see ya whenever I want like that."

"Yes, but I'm not always here, am I?" Ah, she had him there. "You would enjoy meeting Sparta. He would insist on battling you every time you meet, but that's not really something you'd mind, would you?" Rome shook his head. "Athens could show you her temples and statues. She's really very fond of them. …Though you'd have to watch out for Thebes. He'd steal your drachma faster than you could bat a lash." Rome was grinning now and Greece leaned in closer, a smirk on her own lips. "I could treat you to some of that _Gastrin_ you so like. What do you say?"

"Sure!" He beamed, pumped at the prospect of actually going to_ see_ her home. She'd told him much about it, and of her city-states, but there was only so much he could learn from stories. Rome really admired Greece. She was tall and regal, with long, thick tresses of dark brown hair and brilliant green eyes. He'd never seen anyone with eyes like Mama Greece.

"It's settled, then." She stood, Rome's head only coming a little below her chest. "I'll come for you in a month, if nothing happens at home. Make sure you have things settled before you leave."

"You can count on me!"

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The meeting room was dark and quiet, despite the drink, and the fire-light, and decorations like the flamboyant tapestries that decorated the walls. Etruria and Samnite poured over a map of the Appenine Mountains and the lands below, crossing out certain areas where their troops had been camped. At least, until Claudius and Flamma blazed the campaign trail.

"We've been battling on the western front, but Claudius _refuses_ to give way." The Etruria ran a hand through his short black hair. "We're standing off here," he pointed to the south-western border of his remaining territory, "but we'll need rations soon. How is it with Flamma?"

"Oh, we won't have any trouble from him anymore, the bleeding-heart bastard." Samnium had his arms crossed over his chest confidently. "A pretty girl bats her eyes, a whinin' babe or two. The man's a woman, I swear. It's the two lackeys, Maximus and Mus we need to look out fer." He leaned over the map, pointing out a place or two. "Mus is conductin' operations all in here. Fourty-five camps."

"Forty-five at once? Impossible."

Samnium grinned up at him. "Oh that's nothing. Maximus's got eighty-six." Etruria blew out a breath, running that damn hand through his hair again. Bet the little pale-skinned bastard had to actually win any of his battles _himself _before, the wuss. This'd be the third time he'd pitted his strength against Rome, and the second that the Etruscan had joined him, not that he did much. He even sued for peace last year, the coward! But, in speaking of his allies… "Hey, Gaul! Are you getting all this, boy_?_" The barbarian boy looked up from his seat at the far end of the table and stared at him, and after a moment or two of this the Samnite asked him again, in that gibberish language of his.

A female servant tried to refill his glass, but he raised a hand and she backed away, Germania still staring at the other nation. "_Zeige mir, wo der Feind verbirgt. Ich werde den erledigen_."

"I'm sure you will." Germania, the barbarian who didn't really have a nation, just hundreds of scattered brigands, was really rather creepy. Oh sure, he was an awesome fighter, and a loyal mercenary, but he just didn't_ feel_. He never laughed, or cried, never even twitch an eyebrow. The most emotion he'd ever shown was when they'd been trying to haggle down his price. For someone so normally stubborn he perked up right-quick when he'd heard that they were up against Rome. …And, seriously, what with that hair?

"So, do we have a general idea of what we're up against, or is there more?" Etruria drawled.

"Other than the fact that my entire southern legion's been annihilated? No, not much."

Etruria gaped at Samnium, taking a moment to respond. "That could have been useful information before we _started_ this meeting."

"What? Like it isn't _now_?" Samnium scoffed. "Besides, it's not like you can back out now." Though the yellow-bellied cur was likely to try anyways. Samnium looked back down at the map. "We need to gather out forces here, two leagues past the Sentinum plains," he said, gesturing to the spot. "From there we can organize and overtake the Roman encampment to the south. That'll throw off their lines and eliminate Maxi and Mus from the picture." He smirked at Etruria, who didn't look at all convinced, before turning towards Germania. "Think you can follow that much, Gaul?"

"_Ja, du schweine_."

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**Third Samnite War – Battle of Sentinum – 295 B.C.**

All around him he saw nothing but chaos, panic, and disorder. At last, Rome's work here was done.

He'd waited two full days before attacking Samnium, which was a personal best, before charging the enemy lines. Samnium was exhausted. Rome could tell, if not because of the thousands of Samnite warriors he'd killed, then because of how easily he'd been run off of the battle field. That little barbarian brat, however, was a different story.

He and Decius Mus had led a magnificent cavalry charge that failed spectacularly against the Gallic chariots. Since when did the little yellow-haired brat get _that_ kind of technology? And it almost looked like they were going to lose until Decius committed the Act of Devotio, riding alone into enemy ranks, knowing that he was going to die. This was enough to rally the men, and with Fabius back from his defeat of the Samnites things were not looking well for Germania.

Rome finally spotted him as he rode through the fury of swords, horses, and shields. The young Gaul reared back, slashing at a Roman soldier who had been trying to skewer his horse. Rome smirked and launched himself at the pale blond brat, catching him around the middle and slamming him into the ground. He straddled Germania as the boy gasped for breath, reaching back for his- What? Aw man! Did he _really _just leave his sword with his horse?

Germania took advantage of the darker-skinned boy's distraction and slammed his fist into the side of Rome's face.

Rome reeled back, dazed, leaving Germania free to grab his sword and mount his horse again, lifting his weapon into the air with a cry of, "Zurückgreifen! Rückzug!" Those remaining Gauls obeyed, leaving the field and retreating back into the mountains.

"And that's really what happened?"

"Yeah, it totally is!" Rome scowled, crossing his arms over his chest. "And he stole my horse too, the little heathen!" It had been a little more than a few months until Mama Greece had finally come to get him. A few years, actually. Five years, to be exact, but he'd finally managed to force Samnium to surrender. Rome had to hand it to Samnium, he was one tough guy. If it had been anyone else, he wouldn't have been so merciful. …And he was still chasing that Etruria bastard! He'd skipped out before the actual fighting even started.

Greece didn't seem to believe him, but smiled and nodded all the same. "So, mikrí̱ di̱mokratía mou, who do you suppose will be your next target? After all, you never seem to be pleased unless you're waging war against someone," She teased.

Rome thought about this a moment. "Actually… I think you're my next target."

"…" She blinked. "What?"

"I really like your southern colonies, Mama Greece." Rome grinned up at her. "Besides, it'd be nice having a whole peninsula to myself!"

Rome really did admire Greece. He admired her art, her Spartan strategies, her culture... her architecture. What better way to learn how she did it all than to own a few of her colonies? Besides, it wasn't like she was going to miss them.

Much.

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Yes, before anyone asks, Rome was naked for a good portion of the first scene. A body was a body, and nobody cared because your birthday suit wasn't damned by the local church. In fact, among his many other duties, Apollo was the god of young gay men. But I'm sure a lot of you know this. Something you may _not_ know is that _Gastrin_ would eventually become Baklava, a favorite pastry in modern-day Greece, and if you haven't tried it, you should. A little messy, but absolutely delicious.

_Zeige mir, wo der Feind verbirgt. Ich werde den erledigen. - "_Show me where the enemy hides. I will handle the rest." …Or, as close as I could get to it.

Ja, du schweine. - Yes, you pig.

Zurückgreifen! Rückzug! - Fall back! Retreat!

mikrí̱ di̱mokratía mou - My little Republic


	3. He Really Hated That Guy: pt 1

_Okay, so when I said "next day or two", what I really meant was "next month or five". I'm really sorry! It's just school, and work, and augh, and people, and stuff. But! Summer's here, final exams, and I can finally get this baby back on track! So brace yourselves for part 1of 2; the First Punic War.  
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**264 B.C.**** -Rome **_**Really**_** Hated That Guy- ****241 B.C.**

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After five hundred years of childhood, Rome had finally entered puberty.

He could do without the cracking voice, and the hair growing in weird places, and his lanky build, thank you very much! He didn't know how regular humans could stand two or three years of it, let alone nearly ten! Still, the way Roma figured things was that if expanding his lands caused him to grow to this point, then the easiest way to get out of it was to capture even more land.

And he knew just who to target.

Young Roma wasn't the only guy expanding his power base all this time. In all the years that Rome took to unify the Latin Peninsula, as it was sometimes called, an African empire across the way had been making quite a fuss, and Rome had been seeing more and more of his ships around recently.

If he captured that empire (the Poeni Empire, was it?), he'd be an adult in no time! Mama Greece had warned him not to get cocky, just because he was young and head-strong. Something to do with lands to the East… Oh well! Not like he cared! If there was land to conquer in the east, he'd go there, beat 'em, and annex them too! Who knew? One day, he might – dare he say it! – become strong enough to conquer the entire world!

What a new concept _that_ was!

His chance came with a complicated little dispute in the Sicilian port-city of Messana. One side appealed to Poeni for support, and another to Rome. Neither had intended to fight at the time. They'd both sent fleets, and the fact that Rome's expeditionary force was larger than the Punic's led to them backing off. Poeni sent an even larger fleet within the weak, which Rome beat to a bloody pulp.

Rome had won an easy victory – so easy, in fact, that the consul decided to press into the interior some more, just to test the waters.

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**261 B.C. –The 1****st**** Punic War – The Siege of Agrigentum**

"Hey, _ignavus!" _Rome called up at the Agrigentum fort-city, "Just how long do you plan to stay holed up in that rat's nest?"

"As long as it takes to wear you down," answered a dark haired man, standing next to his young Commander Hannibal on the outer walls. His voice faded from the distance between them, as the plateau the fort-city stood on was a good half-league above the Roman encampment.

Rome cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted back up at him, "Can't you just come out and fight me like a real man? Attacking us while we were eating was _very un-sportsman_ like of you!" Like Rome had a right to lecture him about sportsmanship? "Those are woman's tactics!"

"You were eating and harvesting _my crops!_"

"Well, then you shouldn't have left them out here for me to take!"

"Oh, yes, because burning a good summer's worth of work is a _**smart**_ thing to do!"

"Oh, don't be like that, Poeni~!"

There was a heavy silence from the Agrigentum walls for a moment, before something quiet and garbled reached Rome's ears. When he asked for a repeat, because he couldn't understand the African's babble, the man ground out, "_**What**__ did you just call me_…?"

Rome's grin grew wider, having found one of the dark-skinned man's personal pet peeves, and, oh, how he loved to exploit those! "Poeni! Punic!" He teased in a cracking sing-song voice, "Ya got no _cōleōnēs! _You're just a prissy, whiny, little Mama's boy whose apron strings got cut!"

"I am not_ Phoenician_ anymore, damn it!" the African empire raged, "My proper name is _**Carthage**_, and don't you ever fo-"

"If it walks like a bird," Rome cut him off, "Looks like a bird, and chirps like a bird, _**it's a bird**_- _Phoenician!_" Carthage was touchy about this, angry because his mother was weak enough to be killed by the Persian Empire. Geez, if he was so worked up about it, why didn't he just go after the Persian?

Carthage didn't seem to like his comments at all, because it wasn't long before he sent for young Hanno. The sneaky little bastard waited 'till night-fall before going around and cutting off their lines of supply and communication from Syracruse. Rome's troops bustled about in confusion before a group of soldiers spotted the little_ ignavus _and chased after him, half of the camp on their heels, straight into an ambush.

_Merda_, these African were vicious.

After two months the situation was getting desperate, both for the Roman troops, and for the Carthaginians inside Agrigentum. Both sides were pushing for a final confrontation, and Hanno finally agreed at Hannibal's urging. That was the only reason Hanno brought out his entire company in the light of day, thinking that Rome was going to play fair and square.

Not this time, buddy.

With a thunderous roar and a wave of his sword, half of his troops swarmed up out of the trenches behind Hanno, wreaking havoc on the Punics. Hey, if it was fair for Carthage, surely it was fair for Rome.

That night, Rome and the Romans went to bed triumphantly, sleeping heavily under the influence of good wine. Rome, having the constitution of a nation, hadn't gotten as drunk as the rest of them and was the only one to awaken when Carthage and Hannibal snuck through their camp. Rome blinked sleepily, rubbing his eyes to make sure he wasn't dreaming. Carthage smirked and put a finger to his lips as he and his men went merrily on their way.

They were only able to make a pass at their rear-guard by the time Rome had finally managed to rouse his troops. Rome wasn't too pleased with that, but the men were more than happy to help themselves to the fort and the women inside.

All in all, not a _bad _siege.

Too bad that Carthage was better in the water than on land. Thankfully, Rome was a crafty little fellow. He was sure he'd figure some way around that.

* * *

**260 B.C. – Battle of Mylae**

"What is this?" Carthage ran to the starboard bow, scanning the Roman –dare he say fleet? – off the north side of port Mylae. "…You copied my ships!" He shrieked.

Rome leaned against the railing, giving the Phoenician a phony pout. "_Aw_, I thought you'd be _pleased_."

"Pleased about plagiarism?" Carthage sent the teen nation a seething glare as their vessels came along-side each other, his black skin flushed even darker with anger. "You stole one of my _quinquereme _and copied the design!"

"No easy task, I assure you." Rome flicked some dirt out from under his nail, cocky brat! "It took _weeks_ for the Greeks to-"

"And what's this?" he interrupted him, not wanting to hear whatever the Greeks had done to his poor ships. He could see for himself how much heavier they were, and the upright demon-bridge… _things_ on either side of the prow. "You've defaced the boats aesthetics!"

"This, my dear Punic," Rome said, affectionately patting the wooden monstrosity, "is a _corvus_."

Carthage blinked. "A what, now?"

Rome grinned. "A _corvus!_ See?" He leaned around the so-called 'crow,' pointing up at a piece of shod-iron sticking out of the top, "See that beak-like pike?"

The African Empire scowled. "I see that!" obviously, "What I fail to see is what purpose a vertical beaked bridge serves."

"This." Rome signaled to his crewmen, who released the ropes holding up the corvus. With a great 'ka-thwunck,' the metal beak punched through the deck of Carthage's ship and crushed the railing. "I've got a bridge to your ship~!" Rome laughed, spinning and waving his sword in the air, "I've got a bridge to your ship~!" He stopped suddenly, beaming at his bewildered enemy. "And you know what I do next? I yell- '_**attack!**_' –and _all _my men come running across your ship! _Come on, everybody~!"_ The Romans charged, yelling like the demons out of the underworld, and before Carthage could regroup his fleet, Rome captured thirty of his ships.

"Oo~o, a _trireme_!"

Carthage, fleeing the panic as his sailors were swallowed by the Roman barbarians, jumped ships until he found one that hadn't been over-run yet and began to counter. He kept trying different angles, but the corvi swung on a pivot and his ships were caught anyway. Once twenty more of his ships had been lost to the Romans, Carthage decided to run and live to fight another day.

Rome waved farewell to the fleeing ships. Commander Gaius grinned. "Heh. I could get used to this Navy business."

* * *

**256 B.C. – Battle of Cape Ecnomus**

Rain pounded the decks of two hundred Roman ships. Greek sailors scurried about on deck and up the shrouds, tugging on ropes and cables to control the sails and keep the legion's formation. Thunder rocked the boat. A mighty gale nearly knocked one of the sailors off the mizzen mast, one arm flailing for balance as the other knotted itself up in twine. The men chortled at the spectacle.

A kind of nervous energy had woven itself around the crew. For the sailors it had taken four years of furious construction to get the fleet to its current bulk, four years of torturously boring sieges on the mainland for the soldiers, and both were anxious to see what they could really do. Carthage had been antsy ever since of their victory at Mylea, not keen on seeing how sharp Rome's naval capacity could become. He'd been working behind the scenes somewhere, avoiding the front-lines and pissing off Rome to no end… so Rome decided if the enemy would not come for the war, why not just bring the war to the enemy?

It was simply a miracle that the Germanic bastard hadn't thought to attack him all this time, but he was starting to miss their little one-sided spats. He'd tease him a little, the brat replied with a punch to the face or an arrow in the ass; he'd tease him some more and kick his blond butt off his land. Maybe if he got this over with quickly he'd take back that little pocket of forest the Gaul'd been holding onto.

Rome smirked to himself as they passed Mt. Ecnomus , rounding the southern Sicilian coast. Then dark mastheads pierced their way through the mist off the starboard bow, Hanno at the helm. The Carthaginian fleet approached in a blurred line, the fog making it difficult to ascertain their numbers, but it was at least as large a fleet as his own, maybe greater, but what he could feel was that blasted _ignavus_, the Punic, somewhere in the middle of that mess. Commander Longus looked at him quizzically and Rome grinned. "So, we skewer the _bastardo_?"

"Straight through." Longus signaled Commander Regulus and the first two squadrons speared the middle of the Carthage formation, _corvi_ flying. Admiral Hamilcar seemed to panic. The center gave way and the Romans plunged into their lines, not seeing the two sections on either side that broke off and went after their cargo ships. Not only that, but the Punics had learned to avoid the _corvus_, attacking from behind on the other side. Before he realized it the cargo was separated from its vanguard and forced to run aground. Rome had to abandon his search for Carthage and save his fleet, allowing Carthage and the rest of his armada to escape.

Following the battle, the Romans landed in Sicily for repairs and to rest the crews. Men collapsed on the sand, stripping their armor and washing their faces in the waves. The prows of the captured Carthaginian ships were sent to Rome to adorn the _rostra_ of the Forum, as Rome had done since Mylae, and now he glared out at the frothing waters. _Soon_, he swore. _Soon, Pluto's wrath will reach your shores, and your lands will be mine_.

The storm raged on.

* * *

Notes:

_Cōleōnēs _– Obviously where the Spanish _cojones _comes from.

_Ignavus _– coward

_Merda _– shit


	4. He Really Hated That Guy: pt 2

_Ah, here we go. Is it just me, or are the last two battles longer than the first four?_

**264 B.C.**** -Rome **_**Really**_** Hated That Guy- ****241 B.C.**

* * *

**255 B.C. – Battle of Tunis**

Rome eventually made it to Africa, and things had been going very well for a while. Poeni even sued for peace! Well, at least he had… Thinking back on it, maybe making all those demands hadn't been such a good idea…

Carthage had sat down heavily, leaning his head back and rubbing at his temples to try to stave a migraine away. He was tired of this, done with this. All this trouble over an island! "I can't believe you beat my legions…" Rome had snuck his forces around and pinched them in the dark while they were sleeping. _His _legions! On his own land! "Whowas the one ranting on about sportsmanship, at the start of all this?"

Rome shrugged. "Hey, you showed me the dance. I just learned all the steps, Poeni~."

"Puny?" Carthage tilted his head back down to glare at the tan Republic. "Did you just call me _Puny_? 'Cause I _know _you didn't call me a _Punic_."

"Huh?" Rome furrowed his brow, confused. "No, I just said Poe-"

"_**My rule**_," He started in, placing his arms imperiously on the arms of the chair, rising out of his seat, "extends from _Northern Egypt_ along the _entire_ North African coast, and _halfway _through Iberia—and _you_, you unwashed insect, dare to call _me __**Puny!**_"

Rome, who just noticed he was only eye-level with Carthage when the African was sitting, pouted in indignation. "You smell funny."

But Carthage wasn't done yet. "I had over _five hundred ships_ in my fleet. I have over _fifteen thousand men _and-"

"-And that sounds like someone trying to compensate for something~." Rome ended on a high note.

The Punic scoffed, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. "Talk about a person with delusions of grandeur_. You're a __**peninsula!**_You can't even _shave_ yet!_"_ He jabbed Rome's chest, emphasizing his point.

"So?" Rome waved his finger away.

"Don't '_so_' me! And you think _I'm_ compensating for something." He probably hadn't even dropped yet, the brat! Not that Carthage was going to check anytime soon.

"You really like rhetorical questions, don't you?" The Punic huffed and sat back in his chair, glaring daggers at his opponent. "Anyways, back to business." Rome smiled and unrolled the piece of parchment that Senate had given him, for this very occasion. "My Terms of Surrender are that you cede Sicily," Carthage had expected that, "Corsica, and Sardinia to me-"

"_What?_" The tall, dark Empire surged to his feet. "You haven't even fought for those islands! What cla-"

"I'm letting you keep your _African_ territories, aren't I?" Rome looked over at the furious Phoenician, whining out, "Let me _finish~!_" before he could start raging again. Poeni grumbled something in his own tongue, probably cursing him to the depths of the Underworld, so he continued, "You're also to pay an indemnity, renounce you navy, and become my vassal!"

Carthage gaped slightly, shaking his head at the Roman in wonder. "…Fuck you."

And that was how they ended up back here, outside of Tunis, facing a wide open plain filled with huge, lumbering, _rubbery_ things and a good deal of cavalry. Rome scrunched up his nose when the wind brought over their stench. "What were these beasts called again, Regulus?"

"I believe their called '_elephants_', Rome."

"Wrinkly old creatures, aren't they?" he shuddered. Typical barbarians, using vile things like '_elephants_.' "Reminds me of the old hags of Fate."

Commander Regulus scowled, looking over the force Carthage had called to his aid and not liking what he saw. "Do we_ really_ have to fight them?"

"You're the one who pushed for battle now," _instead of waiting for reinforcements like I _asked_._ Regulus was a good man; courageous and brave, but impatient, and not to mention that jealous streak! Great honor waited for the one who won this war, and Regulus knew his term was ending, that he was going to be replaced soon, so he rushed things. Rome sighed to himself, setting a jovial grin. "Well, here goes nothing."

The war elephants led the charge, tying up the main force of Roman infantry, and the cavalry fell to pikemen. Rome went right past them, taking two thousand of his troops, beating the snot out of some mercenaries, and chasing them back to their camp. He didn't have to look back to know how badly the battle was going. Elephants trumpeted, smashing any soldiers who got between their feet and the ground. They were going to lose. Rome led the men up the cliff face, and once they were sufficiently out of the way, he grimaced and stared up at the sky. "Mars? _…Mars~!_ I _know_ you're up there, father." There was silence and the other Roman's muttered to each other, wondering if he was as crazy as he looked. Rome puffed his cheeks out and started bellowing, "_**Get down here! I need to ta-**_"

"There's no need to shout!" Rome spun around to face the great God of War. He stood a good head taller than his oldest men, decked out in full legion armor. The shade cast by his helmet couldn't conceal the glowing red of his eyes. "What do you want this time, brat?"

Rome smile plastered itself all over his face. "Come over here! There's something I want you to see." He waved the God Mars over to the cliff edge, waiting for him to approach before gesturing to the chaos below. "What do you see?"

"You getting your ass kicked," Mars barked. Indeed. Carthage charged with his cavalry, cutting down the remaining infantry as he searched the throng for Rome. After the last man had been dispatched, Commander Regulus was brought to the Punic's feet.

"_That's_ the problem!" Rome whirled on the God, face flushing a dusty red. "I offered sacrifices, _sic_? You said you'd favor me in the war-!"

"In _Sicily_," Mars amended, "You said nothin' about Africa, mate, and I was_ nice_ about that battle in Adys." Rome opened his mouth to say something 'smart'. Mars's eyes glowed dangerously, "Don't you get saucy with me, _parus puerus_! Was your own fault, bein' such an ass."

Rome 'humphed' and crossed his arms over his chest, racking his brain for something. There was always _something._ "…What do you want?" Mars raised a brow at him, "You're a God!" Rome threw out his arm for emphasis, nearly smacking the god's forehead,"You're always wanting something, or someone, so what is it?"

Mars looked out at the battle, mulling over the offer. "…You know that altar where you made the sacrifices?" Rome nodded, "Don't you think it's looking rather… I don't know, shabby?" Rome balked, but the God continued, oblivious, "I mean it's all dark, and damp, and all that grim-"

"What's a couple of blood stains to a God of War?" he asked incredulously.

"A couple every now and then is fine, but that altars starting to look like a hundred year old _barbeque grill!_" Mars shuddered.

The boy Republic blinked. "What's a '_barbeque grill'_?"

"I'll tell you when you're older, son." Mars matched the Latin pre-teen's glare. "Now did you call _**me**_ down here to **fight**, or were you trying to gain my favor a_d nauseam?_"

"But the God of War-!"

"_Doesn't_ mean I can't have taste!"

"What are you, the God of War or an interior decorator?" Maybe it was just the fact that the God of War and Destruction was around making him feel this way, but Rome ranted on, "Do you want some _pink curtains_ to go with it? How 'bout a nice bottle of potpourri?" Mars fumed, smoke rising from his tresses, and Rome relented, "Okay, okay, fine. You get your pink curtains. Just… Help me out a little; throw me a bone, 'kay?" Rome offered his hand, reluctantly.

And Mars took it. "Senate's sending a rescue party as we speak. Get over to the docks."

* * *

**241 B.C. – Battle of the Aegates Islands**

Rome sighed, leaning against the starboard railing as he glared at his reflection in the choppy waters. "Okay," he muttered, "so I've been a bit of a show off lately, I know... But that doesn't mean you have to keep sinking my ships! I mean, _come on_!_" _Rome scowled, 'cause of course_ manly men _don't pout_. "_Twice now I've had to rebuild my fleet. Why do you favor that _Punic _so much?"

His stoic expression raised a brow at him, "I would have thought that obvious." Rome just stuck his lip out further and the reflection ran a hand through what should have been chestnut hair. "Carthage comes from the Phoenician line. They're a seafaring people. They have sailed my seas for eons."

"So?" The boy-Republic plunked a stone at him.

A ripple distorted the image, and soon the water bubbled and broiled as a mass of sea foam rose from the water. "You hire the_ Greeks_ to sail your ships!" it seethed. "You should be embarrassed, calling upon me!" The man now staring down at little Roma hardly resembled his reflection. Long white hair stuck fast to rippling muscles, dotted with scales where man became fish.

"But I've built temples for you! My people have honored you for years!"

"Yes, I know," the fish-man gravely admitted, "But what have you done for me _lately?_" _Oh boy, here it comes._ "I see Mars got his altar upgraded." _I knew it._ Rome rolled his eyes. They both crossed their arms, each giving the other defiant glares. "You've always favored Mars, Rome. Why should I favor you?"

"What do you want?"

"A new temple."

"I don't have the funds!" Rome exclaimed. "I've spent my whole treasury funding this war, _and_ rebuilding the ships _you_ sank! I only have this fleet now, thanks to my nobles' donations!" Neptune's expression remained detached, but the water continued to bubble and boil. "Alright, alright!" Rome flailed his arms and the water calmed. "Look, Neptune, I'll upgrade your temples- all of them. I'll throw in a new temple to boot, once I get the treasury back in order. You're gonna be seeing me on the seas a lot more in the future, but you gotta lay off and give me the chance to do that! Alright?"

They stood there in silence as Neptune… evaluated him. He could've sworn he saw ol' fishy-face smirk. "Fine. I'll be holding you to your word, _parus puerus."_ Pompous ass. He left as he came, features distorting as the fountain of water fell back into the sea.

Well, now that that deal was struck, Rome smirked to himself and turned his gaze shoreward. The great port-cities of Lilybaeum and Drepana… Marvelous little Punic creations seated on a throne of trade goods, and vital life-line for the Carthage Campaign. He would take them soon, just like with Agrigentum, and from there he could launch a third African expedition…

"Are they still out there, _Ductor_Catulus?" _Wait... They?_

The Commander stood on the starboard side with a little Greek sailor, shielding his eyes from the sun to squint over the horizon. "Seems like it," the man licked his chapped lips."They've been out there for over an hour, just sitting there."

"Who is?" Rome called, jogging over to them. The sailor gave Rome a dubious look, like he carried the Plague or something… Well, there was that whole 'southern colony' thing, but you'd think they'd get over it.

"The Punics."

Rome blinked at him. "Pheoni?" He nodded. "Well what the Styx are we waiting for?" He blurted out, not caring that he was "officially" lower in rank than the Commander. "Neptune's with us now! Can't you feel the wind? See the tide?"

Commander Catulus furrowed his brow at him, but stopped to lick his finger and check the wind. Indeed, the wind pulled at their sails, urging them away from the blockade and toward what looked to be a promising battle. The enemy was merely a smudge on the horizon now, but with winds like these they could swoop down on them like hawks. The Commander nodded solemnly at the Grecian, and the runner went to spread the message to the other ships. They were going to take their revenge.

Day faded to night, and by morning the tides had changed- _damn it Jupiter! Probably pissed he didn't get the same offer, that _malus fatus!

Catulus strode the foredeck, waving his arms around, gesticulating, pointing, shouting orders. He had the sails furled in, and when that wasn't enough he cut the masts. The corvi were even dismantled and tossed over the side along with boxes of food and barrels of wine. With nothing but the bare necessities and a battle hardened crew rowing in the galley, the Romans charged against the wind and into battle.

The Carthaginians didn't know what, exactly, to make of this. Most of them were young, green-horns, having been schooled in all anti-Roman tactics and utterly baffled by the loss of the corvi. They couldn't out-maneuver Rome's ships, as they dropped anchor to make sharp turns and rammed their bow into the enemy vessels. And after that, it didn't take long for the soldiers to over-run the ships.

Rome and Catulus were busy regrouping when Jupiter apparently didn't like what he saw and reversed the winds, allowing what was left of the Carthaginian fleet to escape.

Without the resources to build another fleet or to reinforce its land troops, Carthage admitted defeat and signed a peace treaty with Rome, bringing the First Punic War to an end.

* * *

Notes:

Mars was regarded as the father of the Roman people because he was the father of Romulus, the legendary founder of Rome.

_Ignavus _– coward

_parus puerus – little boy_

_Ad nauseam – _an argument which has continued to the point of nausea.

_malus fatus_ – bad/worthless jerk


End file.
